


The Coruscant Conundrum

by QianLan



Series: Same Universe, Different Day [10]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheesy Romance Novels, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn with Feelings, role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-11-22 14:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QianLan/pseuds/QianLan
Summary: An undercover mission.  A First Order officer’s uniform.  One of Poe’s cheesy romance novels.  It would’ve been the perfect combination if not for everything going wrong.  But eventually, both Poe and Finn are on leave, and they still have the uniform…





	The Coruscant Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

> This fic originally appeared as a chapter in my multi-chapter fic [Bad Romance.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7848733?view_full_work=true)
> 
> For the sake of the timeline of the Same Universe, Different Day series, I've made it into a stand-alone fic.

 

Over the years, Poe Dameron has perfected the art of looking calm.  It’s all in the slowness.  If you can keep your breathing steady and make every movement deliberate and measured, you can fake it.  _Like now_ , Poe tells himself.  He desperately wants to glance to the left and see what in the hell is going on with Jess, but instead, he keeps his gaze firm on the Stormtrooper right in front of him, the one yelling at him, threatening him with all of the standard Stormtrooper crap. 

 

He’s heard it before.  He closes his eyes for a moment as he realizes that he will almost certainly hear it again. 

 

The Stormtrooper in question begins hauling him up by his manacled hands, and Poe steals a glance to the left.  He has to fight smiling.  _Thank the maker; they didn’t catch Jess._   He slowly turns his head back to face the trooper.  “Now what?”

 

“Now I take you to Commander Rinde, scum.”

 

_Exactly what I’d hoped you’d say._   Poe can’t help himself: “Why scum?  There have to be better slurs than _scum_.  Kriff, I’d settle for a simple _thief_ or _degenerate_ , but it’s always _scum_ —”

 

The trooper pushes him forward and Poe has to work not to topple over, trying to find his balance.  “Fine.  Scum it is.”  The trooper loads him onto a transport, and Poe works to calm his heartrate now that he knows Jess is safe. 

 

_They were early_ , he muses as the transport lifts off.  _Something is wrong._   As the ship jostles through atmo, he allows himself a brief frown before resettling his face in a mask.  _At least they’re taking me where I want to go…_

 

**# # # #**

Commander Rinde has been running Echelon base in the Outer Rim for exactly two months, two weeks, and six days.  It is not a particularly glamourous post.  There is little room for advancement and frankly, not much happens other than picking up various pirates, smugglers, and the occasional defector.  It’s a sort of way station for First Order followers either moving up the ranks or falling down them.  Rinde is special, though, in that he is neither rising nor falling. 

 

His second in command, Nas, is young and ambitious, clearly wanting to leave Echelon for one of the more active bases or star destroyers.  _That must be why he manages to say everything with a sense of urgency_ , Rinde reflects as Nas comes bursting into his office.  “Troop One-Oh-Seven is bringing back a prisoner from Felucia; they’ll be landing shortly.  Once he’s processed, what do you want to do?”

 

Rinde fights the urge to roll his eyes.  Nas knows what the protocol is.  He doesn’t need to check in for every single prisoner and yet, he insists on it.  _This would be the perfect place if only Nas would relax or just go ahead and get promoted_ , Rinde thinks.  He doesn’t hold the other man’s ambition against him, necessarily, but to be honest, that ambition is a bit dangerous.  _Ambitious people tend to be the ones who muck up carefully laid plans._   Rinde is about to tell Nas simply to follow the usual routine when something sticks in his head.  “Did you say Felucia?”

 

“Yes,” Nas says, reading his datapad.  “Humanoid male.  Approximately 33 years.  Smuggler by the looks of it.  Didn’t provide a name.  Still waiting on the blood ident.”

 

_He’s early_ , Rinde thinks.  “Bring him to my office when they land.”

 

“Sir?”

 

Rinde can’t help but smile.  “I said bring him to my office when they land.  Is anything wrong, Lieutenant Nas?”

 

“No, sir.  It’s just that typically—”

 

“Typically, prisoners are processed and sent to holding while we verify their idents and wait for orders from high command, and I never have to deal with any of it, but as you insist on coming in here _every time we catch someone_ , I figured it was time that I inserted myself into the process.”

 

Nas is clearly flustered but manages a quick nod.  “Yes, sir.”

 

**# # # #**

 

Two Stormtroopers escort Poe down a series of black and white halls and into a large office.  There is a man dressed in black at the far end of the room, staring out onto the hangar below them, his back to Poe.  Without turning he says, “You may leave.”  The Stormtroopers seem hesitant, sharing a quick glance with each other before turning and exiting. 

 

Poe waits for the door to hiss shut before relaxing.  Rinde turns and gives him a quick once over before raising his eyebrow.

 

Poe smiles and holds up his manacled hands.  “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

 

Rinde crosses the room in three long strides, cups Poe’s face in his hands and kisses him like it’s been two months, three weeks, and one day since he’s seen him.  The kiss deepens almost immediately and Poe moans into it, clearly frustrated by the manacles.

 

“Finn,” Poe breathes as they finally break apart.

 

The other man is still cupping his face, taking it in, but there is a question in his eyes.

 

Poe shakes his head and slides into the nearest chair.  “Don’t ask.”

 

‘Rinde’ cocks his head and raises an eyebrow but doesn’t move.

 

“Fine,” Poe says.  “For some reason, your people were early.  The rest of the crew got out, but I figured I’d turn a major cock up into a win, so here I am.”  He leans back into the chair, resting his eyes.

 

Finn squats next to the chair, speaking in low tones.  “Poe, what am I supposed to do with you?  I don’t have things ready yet.  You’re not supposed to be here until next week.” 

 

Poe is a bit distracted by just how well his boyfriend fills out a First Order officer’s uniform to appreciate the anxiety in Finn’s voice.  But then he catches the worry in his boyfriend’s eyes.  “I know, _Rinde_.  Your. People. Were. Early.” 

 

Finn sighs, moving back to his desk and leaning against it.  “Any ideas, Poe?”

 

“We move up the timetable?”

 

Finn looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what that would entail.  “Any other ideas?”

 

“Not really.  I’m still trying to figure out who screwed up.”

 

Finn shakes his head and moves around his desk.  “Given the way our messages bounce around, I’m guessing it was during the relay from point A to point B to point C.”

 

“But you and I both knew the correct date,” Poe insists. 

 

_That’s what has me worried_ , Finn thinks.  He stares at the door to his office and wonders, _Nas?_   “Well, obviously, one of us got the dates of the patrols wrong or some ambitious underling changed them without telling me.”  Finn stares at the datapad on his desk.  “Whatever it is, you’re here now and we need to deal with that.”  Finn takes a breath.  “How am I going to keep you from getting identified and sent away,” he says to himself.  “Your blood is already being processed.  As soon as it hits for Poe Dameron…”  He doesn’t want to finish that thought.  He really doesn’t want to finish that thought.

 

“We move up the extraction.”

 

“Yes, sweetheart, but it is still going to take a day or two to make the necessary arrangements, and I can’t simply keep you in here during that time.”  Poe’s eyes go all suggestive and sexy.  Finn does his best to ignore him.  “As tempting as that might be.”

 

“I’ve never known the First Order bureaucracy to move quickly when it came to Outer Rim smugglers,” Poe offers.  “My guess is that the blood ident will take a while.  Put me in the cells for a day and then interrogate me, just like we originally planned.”

 

Finn frowns.  That’s the part of the plan that’s always worried him.  _If it were anyone other than Poe…_   He shakes his head.  The plan would’ve been easier a week from now when he was scheduled to receive a falsified order from high command about interrogation techniques and half of the base was due to be out on training maneuvers.  “I’ll figure out something,” he says, again more to himself than Poe.  He looks at Poe.  “In the meantime, keep yourself out of trouble.”

 

Poe smirks.  “Don’t I always?”

 

Finn can’t manage a smile back.  He presses a button.  “The troopers can escort the prisoner back to holding now.”  His eyes give it all away—worry, fear, love.  Poe stands up.  He wants to press his hands to Finn’s face, soothe out all of that tension.

 

The doors hiss open, and the transformation is startling.  Finn is gone, replaced by the sneering Rinde.  It shakes Poe just a bit.

 

**# # # #**

 

The plan had practically fallen into their laps readymade.  During a routine scouting mission, Poe and Snap encountered the real Commander Rinde and managed to get him and his ship to the Resistance base without much of a fight.  Seems that the real Rinde was on his way down in the First Order hierarchy and didn’t have the enthusiasm for the work he once did; he gave up and gave in quickly.

 

After a cursory search of the Commander’s shuttle, Finn went to the General.  They stayed in her office for a little over an hour and when they emerged, the plan was set.  Rinde wasn’t well known within the First Order ranks at Echelon base; he and Finn looked passably alike, so it wouldn’t be that hard to change a few pieces of data and substitute Finn as the new Rinde.

 

“No,” rang out one loud voice.  “This is dangerous, and it’s going to get him killed!” 

 

The General kept her voice even, “Captain Finn and I have discussed this and we believe that the risks are relatively low.”  Poe snorted and the General chose to ignore him.  She continued, “Plus, given his unique background, the Captain is well suited for this mission.  It could give us the edge we need with the First Order in the Outer Rim territories.”  Both the General and Finn leveled their most serious _don’t-fuck-with-me-Dameron_ looks at Poe, and he backed down.  For the moment.

 

During the next few hours, Poe remained vocal in his displeasure and his volume grew until the General threatened to remove him from command altogether.  At that point, he settled into quiet grumbling. 

 

Finn allowed the grumbling for about ten minutes before he took his boyfriend by the collar and drug him to a supply closet just outside of command.  He gently threw Poe in the closet and let the door close behind them as he huffed, “How many undercover missions or missions where you were disavowed have you taken in the past year, Poe?”

 

“But that’s differ—”

 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence, Dameron!  It is not different.  The only difference is, for some reason, my boyfriend doesn’t seem to think I can handle—”

 

“Kriff, Finn, it’s not that.  Of course, you can handle it!”

 

“Then what’s the problem, Poe?”

 

“What’s the problem?  You are willingly going to a First Order base to impersonate an officer.  If anything goes wrong, they have you.  The thought of you…”  Poe started breathing heavily. 

 

Finn walked over and put his hands around the pilot, resting his forehead against Poe’s.  “Poe, breathe with me.  Innnnn and outtttt.  Innnnn and outttt.” Finn kept repeating it until he felt Poe’s breathing slow.  Poe was still shaking as Finn leaned back.  “Baby, I know there’s risks but you have to trust me.  I can do this, okay?”

 

Poe didn’t look convinced, but he also knew he was being a hypocrite.  “Fine,” he said.  “But I’m gonna be the one to come get you.  Whatever you’ve got cooked up for an extraction, I’m part of it, okay?”

 

Finn forced himself to smile as he said, “Okay, baby.”  _You aren’t going to like it._

 

**# # # #**

 

_I don’t like it._   Poe hates to admit it, but he’s worried. 

 

Poe and his team were supposed to land on Felucia, set up shop there as “smugglers,” get the attention of the First Order, and then he was supposed to get “captured.”   The problem is, Finn’s people were nearly a week early, so nothing was ready—not Poe’s hidden weapons, not the fake interrogation, nothing.  And the original plan had Poe in holding for a few hours at most. 

 

After a day and a half in a cell, Poe isn’t sure how much longer he can wear the wig and contacts he’s using to mask his identity.  As it is, he is ready to claw at his eyes.  Plus, there is that looming blood ident and the fact that someone jumped the gun…

 

Finally, two Stormtroopers come to Poe’s cell to escort him to interrogation.  He is shocked that Finn isn’t in the room when they arrive, and he can’t help how his hands shake as the troopers strap him into the metal interrogation chair.  _Finn is coming_ , he tells himself over and over _.  I believe in Finn._

 

It feels like hours before Finn enters the room looking flushed.  “That will be all,” he says briskly.  As soon as the Stormtroopers leave, he begins releasing Poe.  “Sorry,” he whispers.  He places a quick kiss on Poe’s cheek.  “Nothing is going right here.” 

 

Poe is squirming, not so much to help Finn as to get his limbs out of the chair faster.  As soon as he’s free, he grabs Finn and pulls him in for a kiss.  _I knew you’d come.  You always come_.  As they break off the kiss, he asks, “Finn, are we going to be able—”

 

“We don’t have a choice.  If this is going to happen, it’s got to happen now.  I got word about the blood ident twenty minutes ago.”

 

Suddenly, a series of alarms goes off.  Poe snaps his head to Finn, who quickly explains, “We just had a mass escape in the prisoner block.  Should create enough of a diversion to get us—”

 

“That wasn’t the plan, Finn.”

 

“We had to change the plan, Poe.”

 

There’s a lot of shouting now and blaster fire in the halls. 

 

“Kriffing hell,” Poe swears as he grabs the blaster that Finn is holding out.  He goes to the door and lets it slide open.  Almost immediately, they take fire.  Finn yells.  Poe doesn’t have time to look as he returns fire.  One of the escaped prisoners falls; another runs from the open door.

 

There’s more shouting and a lot more blaster fire.  Poe peeks into the hall, shouting back, “Finn!  Finn, you with me?”

 

“Yeah,” Finn heaves.  Poe turns.  He goes pale.  Finn is clutching his side.  _No! Why in the galaxy is everything going so kriffing wrong!_   Poe is next to his boyfriend in an instant.  “Finn, how bad is it?” 

 

“Not that bad.” 

 

Poe knows he’s lying, but he also knows they are in more danger the longer they stay here.  “I’m sorry, baby, but we have to move.” 

 

Finn closes his eyes and nods again.   “Yeah.”  Finn’s struggling; Poe can hear it.  He makes it to the door, falling in behind Poe. 

 

Still scanning the hall, Poe says, “Which way to the hangar?”

 

“Down the hall to the left.  First right.  Go two halls and then a left.” 

 

Poe nods.  “On my six, okay?”  He takes off at a nice jog.  The blaster fire seems mostly behind them.  _Thank the maker for small miracles_ , he thinks, rounding the first corner. 

 

He spares a moment to look behind him where Finn is managing—impressively—to keep up.  Poe shrugs out of his oversized jacket and rips the wig off his head.  “Oh, that is so much better.”  He shakes his head, letting his hair fall free, and turns to Finn.  “How you doing?” 

 

Finn nods, breathing heavily.  “Not a damn child, Poe.  I’ve had worse.  We both know it.”  He smiles.  Poe doesn’t know whether he wants to kiss him or clock him.  He settles for an unimpressed look before trotting off to the first intersection; he stops and glances around the corner.  “Clear,” he whispers and Finn follows. 

 

Poe doesn’t make it three more steps before a squad of Stormtroopers rounds the corner in front of him following a rather stern-looking officer.  They don’t seem all that surprised to see him with their wounded commander.

 

“Commander Rinde,” the officer bites out.  “Going somewhere?”

 

“You moved up the patrol date, you little—”

 

“Couldn’t figure out what you were up to, Rinde.  And now I know.  Nice to meet you, Commander Dameron.”  Nas nods at Poe.

 

“Guess you saw the blood ident,” Poe says.

 

Finn is standing next to Poe with his arms behind his back.  His left arm tenses ever so slightly. 

 

Poe wants to burst into a grin, but he can’t, so he settles for some slightly arrogant whooping in his head.  That’s the thing about being with someone for as long as he’s been with Finn—there’s a shorthand that develops, a shorthand that says _I have a flash grenade in my hand.  Be ready to use it_.

 

“Nas,” Finn says.  “You always were a bit too ambitious for your own good.”

 

“How dare you, you Resistance scum—”

 

Poe throws the grenade, and he and Finn are already moving forward.

 

Poe takes out two of the Stormtroopers in two clean shots; Finn smiles.  _Everyone seems to forget we’re both good shots._   Finn gets another one as he walks forward.  _That’s right!  Both of us!_

 

Finn forces the pain from his wound away for the next few moments as he grabs Nas, still blinking from the grenade.  He lifts the man.  “You wanna know why you’re never gonna make it as an officer, Nas?”  He shoves the man into a wall.  “You should have seen that coming.”  He punches him.  “I would have.”   An unconscious Nas slides to the floor.  “And come up with something better than _scum_!”  He turns to see that Poe has dispatched the fourth Stormtrooper.

 

Poe has an eyebrow up, staring at Finn.

 

“Ambitious little moof-milker nearly screwed everything up.”  Oh, he wants to kick Nas.

 

Poe smiles and puts an arm around his boyfriend.  “One more hallway?” Poe asks. 

 

Finn tries to answer but suddenly the pain is returning and he is panting far too heavily.  He nods and finally manages, “Yeah, one more hallway on the left.”  Poe shoots him a look but Finn shakes his head.  “I’m fine, Poe.”

 

Poe reluctantly runs to the next intersection.  The sound of shouting and blasters is getting close; they need to leave.  The hall is clear; he motions back to Finn.  Poe stares into the hangar.  There are troopers running around, not many, but enough to cause problems.  He closes his eyes, trying to come up with a plan.  Finn comes up beside him; he is fading fast. 

 

“Any ideas?” 

 

Finn slowly replies, “No.”

 

Poe frowns.  _You’re a prisoner of the First Order and you need to get off this planet with your injured boyfriend…who is impersonating a First Order officer_.  That’s when it hits him.  He rights his shoulders and glances at Finn.  “Remember the Finalizer?” 

 

Finn shoots him the most incredulous look he can manage, but he gets the gist of what Poe’s going for.  He takes his blaster and points it into Poe’s side.  He then says, far more forcefully than Poe would expect, “No matter what happens, walk like you are broken and following orders.  Understood?”

 

“Keep calm?” Poe says with a smile.

 

“I love you,” Finn says.

 

“I know,” Poe whispers as he opens the door and marches in. 

 

At first none of the Stormtroopers reacts; Poe keeps moving, his hands crossed in front of him ( _please don’t notice there aren’t any manacles_ ) and his head down.  Finn stops and it scares Poe for a moment. 

 

Finn sounds confident as he shouts, “High command have ordered an evacuation.  Make sure the large transport can be ready to go in ten minutes.”  When no one moves, he adds, “Now!  We don’t have a moment to lose!”  The Stormtroopers spring to life.  Finn pushes Poe to a small transport. 

 

_That shouldn’t have worked_ , Poe thinks.  _Not again_. 

 

Poe sprints to the cockpit and begins warming up the ship.  He calls back, “Find a med kit.” 

 

Finn rolls his eyes.  _You think?_   He loves Poe, but the overprotectiveness is a bit much sometimes.  Finn finds some bacta patches and works to clean up the wound as best he can. 

 

Poe finishes the pre-flight and is fairly confident he can take off.  He turns to ask Finn how he is when the man himself collapses into the co-pilot seat.  “How are you?”

 

“I think I’ll live.”  A sudden cacophony of blaster fire in the hangar interrupts him.  “Of course, the chances of that happening would be better if someone would get us the hell out of here!”

 

“Kriffing hell!”  Poe punches a series of buttons.  The ship rises. 

 

Poe pilots them out of the hangar and across the base.  Finn is glad he’s strapped himself in.  It is the bumpiest flight he’d ever been on as Poe swerves to avoid incoming fire.  Finn instinctively reaches for the gunner’s controls.  His side isn’t hurting like it was thanks to the bacta, so he’s able to focus on shooting down any stray TIEs that get too close.  Poe stays low across the base.  He then starts flipping switches and inputting coordinates into the nav system. 

 

“How long,” Finn asks.

 

Poe says nothing, keeps fiddling with the controls.

 

“Poe?” Finn asks, a bit more forcefully.

 

Poe grunts.  “The nav system on this thing is…not good.  Gonna take me a bit longer than I’d like.”  He points to a monitor.  “Just tell me if anything shows up on that.”

 

Finn nods.  Poe is pressing buttons and swearing under his breath.  “Nothing can go right here, can it?”

 

Finn can’t help but smile.  Poe is almost always calm under pressure, to the point of being cocky.  It’s refreshing sometimes to see the façade fall just a bit.  Especially because he knows if anyone can get them out of this, it’s Poe.

 

A beeping on the monitor drags Finn away from his Poe-appreciation. “Shit,” he says.  “Three incoming.”

 

Poe looks at the nav computer and then to the monitor where Finn is pointing.  “Thirty seconds,” he says to himself.  “Thirty seconds.  Come on.  Come on.  We can make it.  Please.”

 

Finn finds himself whispering along with Poe, “Come on.”  He starts firing at the incoming TIEs.

 

Suddenly, an alarm pings and Poe jumps into action.  He steers the ship straight up and they brake atmo.  “Sub-Lightspeed,” Poe yells, flipping a switch.  “And hyperdrive on my mark.  Go!” He presses a button and everything shakes as the ship goes to lightspeed.  Finn pitches forward and backward so quickly he thinks he might have broken his neck.

 

**# # # #**

 

Poe is breathing hard, trying to accept the fact that they’ve made the jump and are still in one piece.  His hands are gripping the control panel a bit tighter than usual.  He eases them off and leans back into his seat.  _Well, it wasn’t pretty, but we did it._  Poe rubs his hands over his face and laughs.  He turns to Finn sitting next to him, who is smiling like an idiot, staring out the cockpit window, clearly happy to be alive.

 

“Good to have you back, Captain.”

 

“Good to be back, Commander.”

 

Poe glances at Finn’s hands, grasping his side.  “How bad is it?”

 

Finn frowns.  “I’ll live.”  Poe leans forward to look and Finn leans back.  “Poe, I promise.  They grazed me.” 

 

Poe fears it’s more than that, but he lets it be.  He leans back into his seat.  “Something finally went right.” 

 

Poe closes his eyes for a moment and sighs.  Then he opens them and offers Finn a truly rakish grin.  “It’s a shame.”

 

Finn raises an eyebrow.

 

“I had some dirty little fantasies involving a First Order officer ‘interrogating’ me during our ride back to Felucia.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

Poe nods.  “Truly filthy.”  He shakes his head.  “Shame about your wound.”

 

Finn smiles.  “It’ll heal eventually.”

 

“True…”

 

“And I’m guessing the General will let me keep the uniform.”

 

“There’s a hole in it, sweetheart.”

 

“Are you gonna work with me or not, Dameron?”

 

They both smile, and there is a pleasant silence as they both begin imagining truly debauched scenarios between the First Order officer and the Resistance pilot. 

 

At the same time, it dawns on them.  “ _The Coruscant Conundrum_ ,” they both shout out.  It’s one of Poe’s favorite romance novels. 

 

Poe starts laughing.  “We could re-enact the entire…” 

 

Finn is laughing too.  “We’d need to find someplace away from the barracks, and we’d need some manacles, but yeah…”

 

Their eyes meet, and it’s decided upon without another word being spoken: as soon as Finn is healed, he’s going to have to “interrogate” Poe.

 

Poe leans back, “And you thought my romance novels were bad.”

 

Finn rolls his eyes.  “They _are_ bad.  Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”

 

**# # # #**

 

By the time Finn’s wound heals and he’s cleared for duty, Poe is back out on a mission.  When Poe gets back, Finn is gone, and for the next two months, they are like ships passing in the night.  As soon as one returns, the other is called out. 

 

They barely see each other, and by the end of the two months, both Poe and Finn are on edge.

 

**# # # #**

 

Finn comes back to their quarters and slumps onto the bed.  He picks up his datapad and mindlessly flicks through his messages.  One new message catches his eye.

 

_Due home in 3 days; requested adt’l 3 days leave both of us.  General approved.  Stock up room; don’t plan on leaving it. ~P_

 

Finn chuckles to himself and then feels a lovely sense of anticipation filter through his body.  Three whole days with Poe; three days to hold him in his arms and breathe him in _._

_I need to plan a proper homecoming_ , Finn thinks, making a mental list of supplies.  _Lube, jogan fruit jam, extra sheets and towels.  Food and drink, of course…_  

 

Finn gets up, suddenly full of energy, and that’s when he spots it, tucked under their bed.  He kneels down and pulls out the First Order uniform.  “Commander Rinde, I’d forgotten all about you.”  Finn wonders if he knows anyone who can patch the hole in the side. 

 

As it turns out, he does.

 

**# # # #**

 

It’s day two of their three-day leave and Poe wakes up to find himself alone.  “Finn?”  He sits up.  He’s actually used to waking up alone—he’s done it more often than not in the past two months—but Finn should be here.  “Finn, honey?”

 

Poe pushes himself off the bed, contemplating getting dressed and searching for his wayward boyfriend when he notices Finn’s datapad propped up on the desk.  _Finn never leaves that out.  I do, but Finn_ …He reaches for it and flicks it on.  He has a message waiting for him.

 

_The Coruscant Conundrum, remember?  The Imperial officer is waiting to “interrogate” his Rebel prisoner in the old training rooms on the far side of the base.  Come immediately.  Wear something you don’t mind getting ruined.  Safe words: green/yellow/red._

 

Poe couldn’t help his shiver as he re-read the message.  He’d forgotten all about Commander Rinde and that First Order uniform.  Poe trips getting out of the bed thinking about how good Finn looked in it and all of the dirty things they’d talked about doing.  He quickly pushes himself up and runs to his closet, desperately searching for clothes he doesn’t mind losing. 

 

**# # # #**

 

Finn meets him outside the door to one of the old training rooms.  “Now, are you sure you’re okay with this?”

 

Poe is too lost in the way Finn fills out the uniform to hear him at first.  “I’m sorry.  What?”

 

“Poe, pay attention.  Look at me.  No, my eyes, Poe.  Look up here.”  Finn takes Poe’s head and forces it up. 

 

Poe smiles and licks his lips.  “Sorry, babe.  You just, um, you look really good in that uniform.”

 

Finn rolls his eyes, but then he plants a quick kiss on Poe’s lips.  “I repeat, are you sure you’re okay with this—the manacles and the being restrained?”

 

“Yeah, Finn.  I’m good.”  Finn opens his mouth and Poe adds, “And we have the safe words if I’m not.  Trust me.”

 

“Okay.  Do you want to put them on or do you want me to?”

 

“You do it,” Poe says with a wink.

 

“Poe! I’m trying to be serious here.”

 

“And I’m trying to get laid.”

 

Finn laughs despite himself.  “Fine, Dameron.  Have it your way.”  He produces the manacles and snaps them on Poe’s wrists.  “Once we go in there, I’m an Imperial officer, okay?”

 

“Imperial officer.  Got it.  And I am?”

 

“You’re a Rebel spy, Poe.  Come on, you’ve read the book!  You’re a sexy Rebel spy that the Imperial officer wants to seduce.”

 

“Oh, Officer Finn!”

 

Finn pushes Poe into the room with a shake of his head. 

 

Poe gapes at the setting.  It’s clear Finn has put some thought into this.  There’s a desk with two chairs and a bed in the corner.  It’s just like in the book. 

 

Poe turns to say something to Finn when Finn shoves him forward hard.   The door shuts behind them with a clang.  “Now, Rebel scum, you and I are going to have a talk.  You are going to tell me everything you know about the secret Rebel base, and if I like what I hear, I might just let you live.”

 

Poe has to admit that Finn in command mode does things to him.  He’s already hard.  It’s bad enough that Finn’s voice has gotten all deep and imposing, but _that uniform_ : Finn is in form-fitting head-to-toe black.  Black gloves, black boots, a tight black belt around his waist.  Poe fights the urge to bite his lip.

 

But then, Poe remembers he has a part to play.  He squares his shoulders and cocks his head to the side.  “Look, pal, I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, but even if I did know the location of the Rebel’s secret base, I wouldn’t be sharing it with the likes of you.”

 

Finn’s face is steely.  He puts his hands behind his back and walks around behind Poe.  He jerks a chair over and forces Poe into it.  Standing behind his prisoner, Finn keeps his hands on Poe’s shoulders and leans in close, his voice barely above a whisper.  “You may address me as Commander or Sir, do you understand, scum?”

 

Poe starts to mouth off when Finn’s hands dig into his shoulders—it isn’t quite painful, but it is definitely dominating.  Poe shivers.  “Yes, sir,” he bites out, trying to force himself out of Finn’s grasp, but Finn is holding on too tight.

 

“Good,” Finn purrs.  He lets Poe go, walks to his desk, and sits down.  “Now, as I was saying.  We’re well aware that you are working with the Rebels and that you know the location of their secret base.  There is no need to deny it.  Things will go much easier for you if you simply share that information with me now.”  Finn then pauses, licking his lips.  “I might even make it worth your while.”

 

_Dammit Finn, where did you learn how to do this_ , Poe thinks.  He suddenly wishes he knew the location of the Rebel base so he could take Finn up on his offer.  His thoughts then clear as he realizes, _duh, Yavin IV.  Kind of grew up there_.  Poe takes a long, deep breath.  “Look, sir, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t know the location.”  Poe’s trying for defiant, but Finn has to know how turned on he is.

 

Finn shakes his head.  “That’s too bad,” he says, rising.  He walks over, crouching in front of Poe’s chair.  He places his hands on Poe’s knees and begins sliding them up slowly.  “As I said, I could make it worth your while.”

 

Poe’s mouth turns to cotton.  He tries to swallow but gets sidetracked by the feeling of Finn’s hands moving slowly up his legs.  Finn’s eyes are the eyes of a predator.  Finn licks his lips and leans in.  “Are you sure you don’t know?”

 

Poe manages to swallow.  “Sure?” he repeats.  “Ummmm, I…”

 

Finn smiles.  “Perhaps if I added an incentive that would help jog your memory?”

 

Finn rises and pulls at Poe’s manacled hands, forcing him up.  Finn reaches above their heads to a hook chained to the ceiling.  Finn lifts Poe’s hands and hooks the manacles to the chain.  He kicks the chair away.  It isn’t quite uncomfortable—in fact, if Poe were to tiptoe, he could free himself from the hook—but it is enough to get Poe’s attention.  Poe marvels at how thorough Finn was in preparing this little scenario.

 

Finn begins to circle Poe slowly.  Finn’s eyes are appreciative and he has a slight smile on his face.  “Such a pretty Rebel,” he says.  He runs a hand down one of Poe’s arms.  “So tight and,” his hand moves down Poe’s side, “well muscled.”  It tickles and Poe tries to flinch away, but Finn holds him in place.  Then, Finn’s hand slips to Poe’s ass.  “It seems such a waste to torture you when there are other ways we could be spending our time.”  Finn squeezes.  Poe closes his eyes and his head leans back slightly.  “You like that, Rebel?”

 

Poe’s having a hard time remembering the plot to _The_ _Coruscant Conundrum_ but he’s pretty sure he’s supposed to resist just a bit longer.  “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Commander.”  He takes a deep breath. 

 

Finn removes his hand and circles, coming in closer until he is nose to nose with Poe.  “You don’t?”  His hand moves to the noticeable bulge at the front of Poe’s pants.  “Are you sure?  This would seem to indicate otherwise.”   
  
Poe can’t help himself.  He pushes into Finn’s touch just slightly.  Finn laughs and moves his hand away.  “Oh not yet, Rebel.  When you’ve told me the location, I’ll give you that and more.”  He circles back around Poe.  “The problem is, I think, that you are wearing entirely too many clothes.”  Poe trembles at this.

 

Finn goes down and pulls off Poe’s boots, tossing them across the room.  He then stands and grabs the front of Poe’s shirt at the collar.  “Were we attached to this?” he asks.

 

“No,” Poe breathes out.

 

“Good,” Finn says ripping it open.  Poe’s cock twitches.  Finn takes a knife from his boot and then walks behind Poe, cutting the shirt off him before re-sheathing the knife.  Poe can hear Finn give an appreciative hum behind him and it warms Poe’s entire body. 

 

Finn walks back around to face Poe; his eyes rake across Poe’s chest.  “Nice,” he says.  He places a gloved hand on one of Poe’s pecks and moves it slowly downward.  “Very nice.”  He looks Poe in the eye.  “Good to see the Rebels are keeping in shape.”

 

“We try,” Poe says.  _We try?  That’s all I’ve got?_  

 

As Finn’s gloved fingers start playing at the waist of Poe’s pants though, that thought is forgotten.  Finn steps in closer.  Their bodies are almost touching.  “Tell me where the Rebel base is and we can have so much fun.”  Finn’s voice is pure syrup. 

 

Poe desperately wants to tell Finn, and the words are almost out of his mouth before he remembers himself.  Poe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  “I. Don’t. Know.”  He looks into Finn’s eyes and adds, “Sir.”

 

Finn chuckles.  He stays in the same space but lets his hands move to Poe’s pants, unbuttoning them and then pushing them off.  His eyes stay trained on Poe’s.  “Are you sure?”  He presses the palm of his hand into Poe’s erection. 

 

Poe hisses at the contact.  “Yeah,” he manages to get out.  “I’m sure.”

 

Finn moves away and it’s like being plunged into a Hoth winter.  All Poe wants is the return of Finn’s touch. 

 

“Oh Rebel, that is too bad.”  Finn walks over to his desk and sits on it, surveying Poe.  He shakes his head.  He then lets his hands fall.  He begins rubbing his own erection through his uniform.  It is hypnotizing.  “So beautiful, and all of the things I could have done to you…” Finn sounds genuinely hurt.

 

Poe’s teeth are raking across his bottom lip.  He can’t look away.

 

Finn unbuttons his trousers and pulls out his cock.  He begins stroking it.  He looks up at Poe.  “All of the fun we could have had.”  Poe has trouble taking his eyes off of Finn’s hands as they work around his large cock, already dripping. 

Finn gets up and walks back to Poe, crowding him.  He leans in, pressing their bodies together.  Poe can feel how hard Finn is, how hard they both are.  Finn licks at Poe’s neck and then sucks a bruise there.  Poe’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a truly filthy moan.  “Where’s the base?” Finn whispers, grabbing Poe’s hips and holding him in place.  “Tell me and I’ll give you everything you want.”  He rolls his hips into Poe.  There are tears in Poe’s eyes and he’s holding his breath, desperate for more.

 

At this point in the story, his character gives a false location and then is ravaged by the Imperial officer.  All Poe has to do is name a system, any system, but for some reason he can’t.  He shakes his head.  Finn begins licking up his throat and over to his ear.  As Finn’s teeth sink into Poe’s earlobe, Poe lets out a yelp and his whole body tenses.

 

**# # # #**

 

Finn had known that getting into a dominant headspace wouldn’t be difficult and that teasing Poe would be similarly easy.  He had been worried about where Poe’s head would be during this interrogation—they’d talked about it a lot when they were discussing the possible safety issues of this fantasy when he was in the med bay healing after Echelon, and Poe had assured him he wanted this.  But talking is one thing and doing is another. 

 

Finn knows what is supposed to happen now if they are still following the script, but the fact that Poe hasn’t said anything makes him pause.   He makes the decision: _we’re going to move on_.

 

Poe is breathing heavily; Finn reaches up and takes the manacles of the hook.  “Color?” he whispers into Poe’s ear.

 

Poe shudders at the question.  _I was a million miles away there, wasn’t I?_   Poe calms and smiles.  “Green, baby.  I’m fine.”

 

“You sure?”

 

Poe leans in and licks a line up Finn’s cheek.  “Yes, sir,” he says. 

 

Finn locks his eyes on Poe’s.  _You sure?_

 

“Yes, Finn.  Green.”

 

“Good,” Finn says, suddenly back in character.  He pulls Poe over to the bed and pushes him onto it face down. “Hands above your head,” he says and Poe obliges, his manacled hands grabbing onto the headboard.  Finn pulls off Poe’s underwear.  “I need to reward my little Rebel for being so accommodating.”

 

Poe is acutely aware of the fact that Finn is still completely dressed.  He’s still wearing the boots and the gloves, even.  So as Finn slides down his body and pushes his legs apart, it is an entirely new sensation.  Something about the scratchy fabric running up and down his body, combined with the leather gloves, is sending Poe to a whole new place.  He pushes up into it.

 

Finn holds Poe’s hips down and settles himself between Poe’s legs. Poe tries to turn his head to see what Finn is doing.  “Head down,” comes Finn’s voice and Poe obliges.  Then, he feels Finn’s hot breath just above the small of his back.  Poe closes his eyes and tries not to whimper. 

 

Finn begins licking, moving further and further down until he is circling Poe’s rim.  Poe can’t help himself; he’s writhing now.

 

Finn moves his hands to hold Poe firmly in place as his tongue darts in.  “Ooooooooh,” Poe wails.  His legs are squirming.  He has to move.  Finn chuckles and redoubles his efforts, pushing in even further, twisting his tongue, bringing it in and out, until Poe’s voice gives out and he’s shaking.  This goes on for what feels like an eternity before Finn relents and sits up.

 

Finn rips off his gloves and grabs the lube he stashed next to the bed.  He lathers his fingers, quickly pressing one into Poe.  He lets go of Poe’s hips, and Poe immediately starts rutting up against him.  As Finn pushes in a second, and then a third, finger, Finn begins stroking his own cock.  He realizes he won’t last much longer—the sight of Poe this far gone is really turning him on.  He puts a hand on Poe’s hip to stop the movement and slowly pulls his fingers out.

 

“We still good?”

 

“Green, Finn.  All green.”

 

Finn lines up his cock and slips it in ever so slowly. 

 

Finn slides his body up Poe’s back, letting the uniform drag against Poe’s perfect skin.  He then starts thrusting his hips in an irregular rhythm.  His arms bracket Poe’s head and he peppers kisses across Poe’s neck and shoulders.  Poe lets out a long “mmmmmmm,” that Finn feels tingle throughout his body. 

 

Finn pushes himself up to find a new angle and as he does, Poe’s whole body stiffens and Poe lets out a low grunt.  Finn knows he has found Poe’s prostate; he rocks into it.  Poe’s breath hitches and he whispers “Finn” with each thrust. 

 

Just before he takes Poe over the edge, Finn stops completely.  Poe lets out a sob.

 

“Shhhhhh,” Finn whispers, lowering himself to rest his chest on Poe’s back.  Poe tries to push back into him—the feel of the uniform at once so wrong but providing a whole new world of friction. 

 

“Patience,” Finn says softly.  He begins licking at the sweat beading on Poe’s neck.  After a minute or so, he starts rocking slowly, rolling his hips just so. 

 

Poe pulls against his restraints.  “Want to touch you,” he breathes out.  “Please.”

 

It’s bad enough he can’t really see Finn.  The way Finn’s muscles clench as he thrusts, the arch of his back, the way his ass looks as he rolls those hips.  But to not be able to touch him?  Poe whines—this is true torture.  His hands struggle against the manacles.  “Please.”

 

Finn’s mouth is at Poe’s ear.  “Had enough of _The Coruscant Conundrum_?”  He licks at Poe’s ear. 

 

Poe closes his eyes and breathes out, “I just want to get my hands on you.”

 

Finn bites Poe’s earlobe, eliciting a long “oh” as he reaches up to undo the manacles.  As they fall off, Poe’s hands immediately rush back, grabbing Finn’s thighs and holding on to him as if his life depends on it. 

 

Finn moves his arms outside of Poe’s and begins thrusting harder, faster.  Poe is rutting into the bedding now—the friction of the uniform on his back and the sheets below him making him quiver.  Finn leans in and bites Poe’s shoulder, and Poe feels himself tumbling towards the edge.  Finn knows he’s close too.  “Poe, I…” 

 

Poe’s hands grab him even harder.  “Come for me, baby.”

 

And like that, Finn goes stiff, coming inside Poe, yelling.  Poe’s fingers dig into Finn’s thighs and he feels himself let go, falling over the edge.  He closes his eyes and stops breathing as he comes, the only thing tethering him to the world is the weight of Finn on his back.

 

**# # # #**

 

For several minutes, they don’t move.  Both are laboring just to breathe.  Finally, Finn rolls off of Poe.  “I think this uniform is ruined,” he says in between long breaths.

 

“I’m sure we can clean it.”

 

“Do you want to explain these stains to anyone in the laundry?”

 

Poe chuckles.  “Good point.”  Poe stretches his arms and rubs his wrists. 

 

“You okay,” Finn asks.

 

“Baby, I’m great,” Poe says leaning over to kiss Finn.  “I can’t believe you remembered this after…Kriff, how long has it been?”

 

“Two months,” Finn says, suddenly aware of all of the near misses and prolonged missions the two of them have been on in recent memory.  Two months when they kept passing by each other; two months when one or the other might not have come back.  _Two months is a lifetime during war_ , Finn thinks.

 

Poe can see Finn heading down a dark mental path.  “Baby,” he says, grabbing at Finn and wrapping him in his arms.  “We’re here now; we’re safe.  We’re good.”  He kisses Finn’s forehead.  “We’ve made it this far, and I don’t have any plans for us to stop.”  He leans his forehead into Finn’s.

 

Finn takes in a deep breath and nods.  “Missed you.”

 

“You have no idea,” Poe says, squeezing just a bit harder.  That’s when it hits him.  These past two months, the next two—the war stretches out behind him and in front of him and he wonders how many more times he’ll get to hold Finn like this, touch him, tell him how much he loves him.  He starts to shake.

 

Finn presses his forehead more forcefully into Poe’s and whispers, “We made it this far, baby.  I’m not going anywhere.  Come on, Poe, breathe with me.  Innnnn and outtttt.  Innnnn and outttt.”  Finn keeps repeating it until he feels Poe’s breathing slow. 

 

Poe swallows and tries to find comfort in Finn’s words, his touch.  Poe shifts his weight.  As he does, the rub of Finn’s uniform against his skin makes him realize something.  “I’m naked.”

 

Finn chuckles.  “Yeah, it’s a good look on you.”

 

Poe sits up.  “Finn!  Seriously, how am I supposed to get back to our quarters?  If Jess sees me like this, I’m never going to hear—”

 

Finn rolls to the edge of the bed and reaches under it, handing Poe a pack filled with extra clothes for both of them.  “I wasn’t going to walk across the base dressed like a kriffing First Order officer.”

 

Poe looks from the pack to his boyfriend.  “You really did think of everything, didn’t you?”

 

“I really did,” Finn says, taking off his belt and loosening his uniform.  “These things are the worst.”

 

Poe is still looking at Finn as if he hung every moon and star in the sky.  Finn leans in and kisses Poe.  “There’s also a jar of jogan fruit jam back in our room if we feel like getting messy later,” Finn says smiling.

 

Poe laughs.  “Anything else you have planned for our three-day adventure?”

 

Finn nuzzles Poe’s neck, just enjoying the smell of him.  “Honestly, I was hoping maybe dinner, cuddling, and a holo, if it doesn’t sound too boring to you.”

 

Poe leans into Finn, closes his eyes and wallows in the warmth of his boyfriend, the solid body that is really there next to him, that is completely _his_ for another day and a half.  “That sounds perfect, baby.”

 

Both Poe and Finn are good at pretending.  Poe the spy.  Finn as Commander Rinde.  Poe playing the sexy Rebel that Imperial officer Finn seduces. 

 

_But_ , Finn supposes, as they remain wrapped up in each other—neither of them in a rush to move— _this is the one thing you can’t fake_.  He wishes he could put it into words—how solid Poe makes him feel; how right this is. 

 

Instead, he wraps his hands a bit tighter around Poe and kisses his temple.  “Perfect,” Finn says.  _Just perfect._

 


End file.
